


Supposedly

by CharlieDC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x18, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sam Winchester (mentioned) - Freeform, meta fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieDC/pseuds/CharlieDC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn’t happy.</p>
<p>Of course Dean isn’t happy. He isn’t happy about a lot of things. Like how the hell they going to stop Metatron, how the hell they’re going to get the First Blade… and most importantly…</p>
<p>How the hell did Cas just get a Star Wars reference?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supposedly

Dean isn’t happy.

Of course Dean isn’t happy. He isn’t happy about a lot of things. Like how the hell they going to stop Metatron, how the hell they’re going to get the First Blade… and most importantly…

How the hell did Cas just get a Star Wars reference?

Not that Dean cares, of course he doesn’t, but… There was a distinct way of how this was supposed to go. Cas was supposed to pop in the bunker and hang out. Dean was supposed to talk to him. They were supposed to confess their five years of undying love for each other and were supposed to make out. 

But just like Mick Jagger, you can’t always get what you want.

Dean was ready to stop the drinking. He wanted to stop because he wanted to be sober around Cas and have a happy little domestic life. Yes. Dean Winchester was ready to be domestic. None of this picket fence, Rover the golden retriever shit, but definitely wanting to wake up to Castiel with his black hair mussed around his chest as he stirred to consciousness.

Dean would slip out from their tangled limbs and make them coffee. Then he’d make Sam his own pot for when he came back from jogging. Pop some bread in the toaster and get the jam and butter. He’d sneak back into their room - their room - and put the plate down on the bedside table. Quietly, he’d waft the freshly brewed coffee under his angel’s nose and watch as the lids shot back and revealed two cornflower blue orbs that held all the world’s secrets inside each iris.

He would wait for Cas to get done with his shower and clean the room in the mean time. Dean would make Cas get all dirty again and then they’d share a shower for the conservation of water, of course. 

The best part about the way this was supposed to work out, was the ending of Dean’s little fantasy day. He would turn into an eight year old and build a fort out of the couch cushions and blankets and pillows. He would proceed to pop some corn and make hot chocolate, then retrieve his Castiel from the library. He would make Cas put the book down after whispering some things in his ear that he would never say in front of his little brother.

Dean and Cas would walk into the living room (Dean’s hands over Cas’ eyes) and a classic “TA DAAA!” and unveiling of their little date would spread a confused smile over Castiel’s face.

“But I thought you said we were going to-” He would start to say.

“Later, babe, later. Have I ever lied to you?” Dean could’ve flashed a smile over his shoulder.

“Yes.” The angel would smile and look at Dean with excitement dancing through his eyes.

Dean scoffs and plants a small kiss on the other’s lips and Castiel’d turn and really take in the scene before him. Blankets held up by trillions of different things; books, ropes, the TV itself, staples and duck tape. The scented candles (Dean would never admit it, but he spend a good hour in Bath and Body Works) around the room, the pillows and blankets in the center made to seat two, the bowl of popcorn and two piping mugs of hot chocolate on the tray.

And the look on Dean’s face as he saw the shock on Castiel’s.

“What is this for?” He’d question.

“Your first lesson in pop culture education.” Dean would trot on over to his spot on the left and sit down, looking back up at Cas, waiting for him to go over.

“Does this mean I can call you Mr. Winchester?” Castiel (by now he would be flirty and hot and Dean would love it) would totally send a flirtatious smile towards his significant other and watched the blush splay up and over the hunter’s neck and face.

Then Dean would come back with some other pop culture reference and Cas would squint and not get it and Dean’s eyes would flicker back over to the TV.

“What am I learning?”

“Star Wars." 

Then he’d press play, and in thirteen and a half hours, Cas would know every Star Wars reference. 

And that was how is was supposed to go.


End file.
